


Angel's Trumpet

by YaminoTenshi202



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Crack, Flower! Aziraphale and Bee! Crawly meet in the Garden of Eden, Is this a Crack-fic?, M/M, Other, THEY ARE A BEE AND A FLOWER. LITERALLY., They get better, garden au, okay hear me out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-02 11:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19440655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoTenshi202/pseuds/YaminoTenshi202
Summary: Bee! Crowley and Flower! AziraphaleBased off of fanart and a fan-response by rathernoon and parallelsweethearts respectively. The art is linked.Created in a library after days of questionable nutrition and insufficient hydration.





	Angel's Trumpet

**Author's Note:**

> https://rat  
> hernoon.tumblr.com/image/185983626433

Falling hurt.

That was what they understood at the very beginning.

However, when they all were done fighting, the Angels that God had not yet created were left in the Garden that was not yet done. Some inhabited animals, waiting to be born again. Others were in the sea, and others on land. The same happened to some of the Fallen that managed to climb out of the sulphurous pools of liquid fire, though only one decided to spend time in the Garden, rather than attempt to ruin its guarded glory.

Aziraphale, the Principality of the Eastern Gate, saw born into a white flower. With its bright petals, he could feel his Light reach up towards God, leaves and stem reflecting that. He didn't know when he would escape this form, but until then, he would perform his task well: to propagate more of the kind of flower he was.

It was evening, something that Aziraphale was aware of only in the difference of temperature in comparison to the day time. It was time to awaken, and when the Moon finally rose, he was fully blooming.

He knew that some of God's small creatures - insects - would be coming for pollen and nectar soon. He was not kept waiting too long.

The bee was coming close, but Aziraphale didn't dare hide himself. He spread his petals invitingly.

"Hello, blosssom..." the bee called, coming close and landing on Aziraphale's petals. The weight of the bee weighed him down, only slightly, and it was comfortable.

"Hello, friendly worker!" Aziraphale unfurled one of his pistils in greeting, which the bee tickled with their tongue. A bit of pollen as a gift, as was custom.

"Not often I find a flower assss friendly assss you, lovely." The bee settled his legs on one of Aziraphale's stamen, the anther waxy and smooth. "What'ssss your name?"

"I'm Aziraphale, or that is what Raphael calls me. What are you called?" Aziraphale offered another pistil, more pollen as a gift of decoration for the bee's body. "Who are you?"

"I am Crawly," the bee explained. "Uriel gave me my name, for how I can crawl about all of thissss garden with easssse, even with my wingssss."

Aziraphale beamed through his petals. Crawly came closer, his antennae twitching about and tickling Aziraphale.

"May I tasssste you, lovely blosssom?" Crawly asked, his body seeming to shake with delightful anticipation. Aziraphale spread his petals, and the bases of his leaves showed.

With that, Crawly carefully entered into Aziraphale's main body. Aziraphale was stretched, not uncomfortably, but this was the first bee that had ever come to greet him, and he couldn't think of another bee coming to him.

Crawly himself was having a marvelous time. He had been called upon by a queen - though he remembered something from before, not clearly - to gather a flower's sweet nectar, and after seeing so many flowers…

Crawly extended his proboscis, carefully entering Aziraphale's first full, tense nectary. The flower shook with delight, the edges of his petals curling as Crawly's proboscis settled into his nectary and Crawly began to process of suctioning out all of the nectar from the tight space.

Aziraphale let out a cry, his petals quivering in the moonlight. Perhaps he should have listened to the other flowers and come out in the day, but the sunlight was too bright for him. He much more enjoyed watching the first of God's humans go to sleep at night, their skins against the grass and their strange appendages tangled together as they slept.

"Are you all right?" Crawly pulled out his proboscis carefully, but Aziraphale quickly grabbed one of the bee's legs with his pistil.

"I'm fine... I'm fine..." Aziraphale let his leaves and body relax, his nectaries opening fully. "It- Do other flowers tell you that it feels nice? It feels so very nice."

Crawly closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again, enjoying Aziraphale's beautiful colors in the moonlight. "No, usually they tell me to get on with it, so another bee can have their turn. God expectsss usss to ssspread the ssseed, you know."

"But," Aziraphale interrupted, truly confused. "Why do I feel like I don't want another bee to visit me?

Crawly took a step, crawling in deep to Aziraphale's body. The fuzz on his body took on the shivering of Aziraphale's petals, all that Crawly wanted.

Crawly rolled the taste of Aziraphale's nectar in his mouth, his proboscis eager to begin to take more of that unique taste again. "Why don't I want to ssssee another flower, my dear?"

Aziraphale let himself relax, his nectaries open. Crawly took the chance, pressing his proboscis deep into the nectary that he had begun to drain. For the first time, Aziraphale began to feel something deeper than his own roots. His stem seemed too small for his nectar, his petals too weak to hold Crawly deep inside of his body as Crawly drank down the nectar that Raphael had told Aziraphale to create, just for this purpose.

Crawly himself felt his mind growing blurry. His vision was no longer as precise as it was, and his body could no longer be supported by his legs. He settled down onto his abdomen, drinking and finally draining the first nectary. Once it felt empty, he moved to the next one, shoving his proboscis deep.

Aziraphale let out a gasp, spreading pollen everywhere. His petals covered in soft white dust, Aziraphale could hear Raphael screaming at him for wasting precious resources. The Earth was so new, and Aziraphale had such an important job in it; yet, Aziraphale couldn't care less of what Raphael thought. He wanted Crawly to keep drinking him down, pulling at the small pockets of his body until he was empty-

Crawly felt his body upturned when Aziraphale shake again, but it was different. The flower let out a scent that the bee found himself searching for, his antennae looking for the cause.

"My dear," he asked, "what'ssss wrong? Did I hurt you?

Aziraphale shakily lifted up another appendage. He didn't know what this was, but there was a presence in the garden that neither creation knew of just yet. It caused the flower and the bee to have a curiosity unknown to them before the Angels had created them.

They wanted to create, the flower and bee did, but they only knew that there were tasks not meant for them. Crawly, only a worker, could not reproduce or stay still, and Aziraphale, a moon-blooming flower, was meant to be still, stagnant.

Crawly, however, knew that something was different. He had asked Uriel of the flower bud that stayed closed during the day, but Uriel turned him away, telling him to obey his Queen-mother as he was meant to do.

Crawly, having tasted this beautiful moon-flower, did not stop himself. He licked the tip of the stigma, watching as Aziraphale let out a sigh, the stigma entrance widening as much as it could. It was still tight, but when Crawly came again, proboscis eager and hungry and not moving as nimbly as before, Aziraphale felt his body full in a way that had never occurred before.

The stretch in his style, the pollen all over them both; Crawly could hardly care about the nectar for his colony. It was Aziraphale's and it was Crawly's.

That is what Aziraphale was feeling, scenting for the lovely pheromones that Crawly was releasing.

This flower bud would forever belong to Crawly, in the same way that the humans belonged to each other.

"Crawly!" Aziraphale felt his previously empty nectaries fill again, spilling onto his receptacle. He felt something, at the base of his style, fill with a light. If either human were awake, they would think that Uriel was in the flower, that Raphael came to heal parts of the garden that Sister Sun had gotten too harsh with in the day-time. Here, Aziraphale felt the light of an angel glow inside of him.

Crawly had to close his eyes in the light. It was brighter than Sister Sun, and it was stronger than Sister Wind. It didn't matter, though.

Crawly felt small round things at the base of Aziraphale's style. He could feel the pollen on his tongue, a sticky mixture with the nectar, spread over them. Aziraphale let out another cry, his body quivering so hard that it seemed like his stem would break.

"Crawly... My nectar!" Aziraphale felt so tired, but his nectar was almost spilling out of him. It worried him, the responsibility for such a thing that seemed outside of his control, but he couldn't help it.

The bee pulled out of the flower's style, the tip of his proboscis almost caught in the eager, hungry snare of the stigma, but he carefully moved downward again. His front legs were deep in nectar, but Crawly dutifully drank down the nectar, intoxicated by the sweetness. This was a flower that he had never taken pleasure in before, and Crawly could say now that Aziraphale was his favorite flower.

Aziraphale shook, quivered as Sister Wind came around them again, unseeing but ever present. "How... Does it always feel like this?"

"Never," Crawly asserted. "Not even the poppy made me feel... so..." Crawly filled his belly as much as he could, deciding that this was his only. None for his queen or the drones, and certainly none for his sister-workers; Aziraphale would be his for-ever.

-Crawly- he heard, and Crawly's body went still, proboscis still deep in the nectaries of Aziraphale's white blossom.

-Crawly- the bee heard, and he felt himself be pulled towards the exterior of Aziraphale's body.

"No... Why?" His wings did not obey him, and Aziraphale was reaching for him with saddened stamens and wilting petals.

"Crawly!"

"Blossssom!" Crawly opened his eyes, and he saw the flower again, the flower that he never wished to part from. It had the light of an angel.

"Crawly!"

"Angel!" Crawly cried back, his small heart pounding furiously as Uriel's mighty hands grasped him, blinding him.

-You are not an angel. You are not one of God's Creatures.-

The world went dark. Everything was painful for a moment as Death finally entered into the Garden of Eden, with only a worker bee as its first victim.

Brother Moon, and the stars that Crawly had admired during his secret night flights, were gone.

Aziraphale was gone.

When Crawly awoke again, it was through different eyes.1

It was a new body. His eyes saw differently. They did not see color as before. They saw heat, and the light of Sister Sun itself was visible to him. As he went through the garden, looking for the flower that bloomed in the night, Crawly came upon a hole in the ground of the garden. He found another like him, another serpent.

"What wasssss here?"

"A blossssom that bloomed when the ssstarsss were awake," said the serpent. "Raphael sssaw the Angel in it work so diligently when Brother Moon was awake, ssso he gave it another tasssk. A Heavenly one."

Crawly flared his nostrils, tasting the air. Oh, he remembered Heavenly tasks; they were the ones who had come down from the sky and had caused such chaos below. Oh, he remembered - without having a body before God chose it for him - seeing the angels with brightest wings grow angry at God-Mother, and Crawly, not knowing that he had had to choose a side, had opted not to fight.

Michael had cast Crawly downwards. His body became misshapen from how it used to be. His body had venom, but if he ever used it, he would be poisoned as well.

"Where isss the being that wasss onccce the ssstar-flower?" Crawly asked, his fangs sharp and bared. The serpent, unable to conceptualize the thought of violence for it did not yet exist, nodded and looked to where Sister Sun always woke.

Crawly looked there and saw the giant wall that surrounded the garden. "There?"

"On the top," the serpent said, bowing its head and slithering off to join its mate.

"Does the flower ever leave their posssst?"

"No! Brother Raphael trained him well!" The serpent quickly went off to whatever it had planned before. Crawly strode forward towards the east, looking to be with the beautiful flower that had intoxicated him, that had shown him that they could not be without each other.

As he passed through, he could hear Lucifer speak in his mind.

_**Make some trouble, little brother.** _

Crawly groaned. What could he do? Surely there was nothing that Crawly could do now, especially when his mind was only on his delicate flower, the one that he had become addicted to.

_**Go on. Whatever is bothering you will be made better with mischief.** _

Crawly tried to ignore that feeling, because this was not his fight. This temper tantrum that had gotten them all damned in the first place was nothing to do with Crawly or his little flower, who had not been part of the fight at all!

"Hello!"

Crawly looked up, and he saw the shape of Woman.

"What kind of serpent are you?"

Woman's eyes were curious and dark. They took in Crawly's form and saw that it was a good and beautiful thing. She called to Man, who came close and praised Crawly as well. They spoke of God's wonders, but Crawly heard nothing.

All Crawly thought of was how wonderfully happy Man and Woman looked together. They were made for each other in the way that only the Almighty could Create partnering things. He could feel the same joy roll off of them that the Moon-flower radiated when they were together in the Moon-light.

Why were the Man and Woman blessed when Crawly could not have his own partner? Didn't they know what this suffering was? Woman had been alone! Someone could have hurt her!

He shouldn't hold it against them, he shouldn't.

Make trouble they had said...

When Crawly had to hide from Uriel's eye, Woman came to him again.

"What bothers you, little serpent?"

And so, Crawly whispered in her ear.

**Author's Note:**

> 1 Discorporation was not something that Crawly could remember experiencing before. He could not recall it during the Great War, which was best.


End file.
